Persuasion
by Deandra
Summary: When first they met, love flowered, but she rejected his offer of marriage. Now they come face to face once more, and everything has changed. Complete in 4 chapters.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: Happened to watch part of a Masterpiece Theatre showing of "Persuasion" (not the really good one with Amanda Root/Ciaran Hinds), and chanced to ponder the possibility of adapting the basic storyline to Middle Earth and, who else, Eomer and Lothiriel. So, sorry Smor, but here's yet another tale of their meeting…**_

_**NOTES: The details of this story essentially follow Tolkien's tale, though they add numerous events that are not mentioned and probably didn't happen (I don't know for certain if anything directly contradicts Tolkien, but I tried to make it conform with known canon as much as possible).**_

**Persuasion**

**(May, 3016 III, Minas Tirith)**

"Lothiriel? Come here, child," Ivriniel instructed, in that tone that left no room for argument. Since the death of the girl's mother, Ivriniel had seen it as her responsibility to take on the task of seeing her niece properly reared. Certainly the girl's father and brothers could not be expected to do an adequate job of it, and Ivriniel had no intention of leaving the matter to chance. The family's good name and reputation were at stake.

The girl's eyes sparkled and her face was flushed, while a brilliant smile lit her face. Ivriniel's eyes narrowed; she could guess the source of this radiant countenance. Young girls were so impressionable, and easily taken in by handsome men. "Where have you been?" she interrogated.

Lothiriel was too filled with happiness to conceal anything, though it felt a bit awkward to share such wonderful happenings with her aunt. "I…I have been with Lord Eomer. We were walking in the garden. But I assure you we were properly attended, Aunt." Lothiriel hastened to add that last bit, knowing how important such things were to her stern relative.

"He is _not_ a Lord, Lothiriel! He is merely a soldier. Granted he is the king's nephew, but of little consequence beyond that," Ivriniel announced reprovingly. Rohan's king had sent his son and his nephew, just over a sennight ago, as emissaries to Gondor; if Lothiriel must swoon over one of them, let it at least be the prince. He was a bit old for Lothiriel, true, but the most suitable for a match with Imrahil's daughter. Unfortunately, Rohan's heir to the throne was much occupied in discussions with Denethor, leaving his cousin free to impose himself upon the unwary young girl.

Lothiriel's enthusiasm faltered at this attack, but then she ventured, "Still, he is most agreeable, and his connection to the king –"

Ivriniel cut her off, seeing where this might be leading. "Do not be a silly child, my dear! The man is most inappropriate for you. Men such as that merely toy with young girls. They make insincere promises in order to take liberties, and then they disappear long before the consequences are felt!" She eyed her niece dispassionately, making Lothiriel uneasy under her gaze. "He has done so, has he not?" she inquired perceptively, and Lothiriel ducked her head to avoid the woman's piercing look.

"He…he wishes to marry me –"

"Marry! That is outrageous! How dare he suggest such a thing, or even presume it! He is nothing but a soldier, Lothiriel, and will never amount to anything of consequence. You are the daughter of a prince, and you have obligations to your family and to Gondor. You could never marry so beneath you. Your father would never allow it, and you would regret the alliance all of your days! Do you truly wish to live out your life in a bark hut, with no servants to attend and nothing of value to your name?"

Lothiriel swallowed hard at this assessment. Eomer had _seemed_ most sincere, and she could not think he would ever allow her to go wanting on his account. Still, she _was_ very young and had not had much association with men other than her brothers. Perhaps he did deceive her; perhaps her aunt was right to counsel her against him. Even so, tears filled her eyes as she capitulated. "As you say, Aunt."

"Good!" Ivriniel exclaimed, pleased at her victory. "You will decline his offer, and make it clear to him that you are not to be trifled with further. I understand they will be leaving the day after tomorrow to return to Rohan. It should not be difficult for you to largely avoid him until he is gone."

xxx

"I…I do not understand. Lothiriel –" Eomer was saying when a commanding voice rang out behind him.

"Lothiriel! Come inside, child. I am sure the _gentleman_ will excuse you," Ivriniel imperiously instructed.

Eomer wheeled on his heel, and Lothiriel slipped reluctantly past him to obey. "Wait! Lothiriel –"

"My niece is off limits to you, young man. She is too young and impressionable, and we do not appreciate your preying upon her," Ivriniel announced.

For a moment, Eomer was going to argue, but Lothiriel would not meet his eyes, seeming to agree with her aunt's edict. Anger swelled in him and he gave a curt nod of his head, turning quickly away and charging from their presence.

"See, that was not so difficult," Ivriniel commented, benignly watching the young man depart. "Come inside, Lothiriel."

"Yes, Aunt," she dutifully responded, fighting back the tears threatening to break forth. _How had this wondrous visit to Minas Tirith turned so utterly miserable?_

**Chapter 1 (July, 3019 III, Minas Tirith)**

"So, Erglass, what news of Minas Tirith?" Ivriniel inquired of her servant, while pulling off her gloves. Behind her, Lothiriel was unfastening her travel cloak. The pair had just arrived on the boat from Dol Amroth, answering a summons from Imrahil to join him in the White City.

"Oh! So much to tell you, m'lady! When we returned to the City after the fighting was over, it was quite in ruins, though they've done many repairs since then. The menfolk say it was quite a glorious sight when the Rohirrim rode into view on the horizon to help defend us! And, after, during all the celebrations once the Dark Lord was defeated, all those light-haired men made quite a splendid sight to a woman's eye!" The portly, older woman blushed at her girlish remarks, but then pressed on with her commentary, unaware of Lothiriel's increased attention at the mention of Rohan.

"Anyway, there was parties and feasting all over, not to mention when the new king was crowned! And then when his bride came – an Elf! Can you imagine! She's the most gorgeous creature that ever lived, I'll wager! It was such a shame you had to miss the wedding on account of your illness, m'lady. You're all better now?"

"Yes, dear, I am. Thank you for inquiring. But do go on – what is happening now that would cause my brother to send for us? Surely we have already missed all the excitement," Ivriniel remarked, smoothing her clothes after handing her cloak to another servant hovering nearby, and leading the way toward the library for refreshments. Lothiriel followed silently in her wake, also eager for news.

"Well, likely Prince Imrahil would have you here on account of King Theoden – Rohan's king. He was killed in the War, out on the Pelennor, and has lain here in the Hallows until now. They are coming to take him back to Rohan for burial, is what I hear."

Before she could continue, Lothiriel involuntarily spoke, murmuring, "Then Theodred is now king."

Both the other women turned to look at her, but she was gazing at the floor and did not notice. "Oh no, miss! Seems this Theodred, the king's son, was killed during the War also, though I do not know the particulars of it – he didn't fight here – and so now the king's nephew rules. His name is…Eomer, I think it was. Fine looking man he is – so very tall and handsome. The ladies were all vying for his attention until he returned home. Unless he's found a wife, I'm sure it will be the same this time, too!"

Imperceptibly, Lothiriel inhaled and her eyes widened. _Eomer was king now?_ She moved hastily to the window as she fought for control of her emotions and her countenance. There, she closed her eyes in pain at the irony of it all – she had rejected him as _unworthy_ of her hand because of his lowly station! He would never think of her fondly now, she was sure, but she also suspected her aunt would be anticipating making a match of them. Ivriniel did not concern herself overly much with such details. The two were of equal rank; indeed, quite possibly they were each of the highest rank imaginable among the unmarried nobility – Ivriniel would think it right and proper that they be joined, regardless of either one's feelings in the matter. How very humiliating it was going to be to face him now!

The room seemed to be closing in on her, and she knew she had to escape. "If you will excuse me, Aunt. I believe I will rest awhile before supper. I want to be fresh for this evening," Lothiriel said, hoping the woman would not press her with questions.

"Of course, my dear. That is an excellent idea. Yes, we certainly want you looking your best…" Ivriniel's voice had that speculative note that always set Lothiriel on edge. She could well guess the reason for it this time.

Safely in her room, Lothiriel sat in a chair and stared unseeingly ahead of her. Eomer was returning, as king of Rohan. In some ways, the events of three years past seemed an eternity ago. She did not believe a day had gone by during which she had not thought of Eomer, and regretted giving him up. For all that their time together had been brief, she was convinced their love had been true. The momentary confusion Ivriniel had caused led to Lothiriel doing as instructed and rejecting him, but the look on his face when she spoke the words! Her aunt had completely misjudged the situation, and she had broken his heart most cruelly. And she had never recovered from that knowledge or her own feelings. Young men had been interested in her since then, usually spurred by Ivriniel's efforts to encourage her toward a possible future marriage companion, but she had wanted none but the one man who was totally lost to her.

A man who was now coming to Minas Tirith, against all probability, and she could not avoid encountering him. Oh, how she wished she was back in Dol Amroth, and did not have to face the next few days.

xxx

As it turned out, the next few days were the least of her concerns. The Rohirrim had not yet arrived at the city, and Lothiriel spent a pleasant three days being reunited with her family, whom she had missed terribly these past months. She had not seen her father or youngest brothers since March, only Elphir returning home after the War to deal with matters of that kingdom in his father's absence. Despite the joy of seeing her family once more, Lothiriel could not help being nervous about Eomer's pending arrival. She had gone over every possible scenario she could imagine for their initial meeting, but always she envisioned herself as looking quite foolish and garnering nothing but his disdain.

Rightly so, she believed. She had hurt him so very much with her rejection. Over the past three years she had had ample time to ponder on the matter, and always her heart reached the same conclusion – that she loved him still. She knew all the arguments her aunt had repeated periodically during that time – that she was too young to know her own mind, that they barely knew one another, that it was merely infatuation that she felt, that Eomer was much too old for her – but none of them did anything to persuade her that her feelings had not been genuine, and no matter Ivriniel's claims otherwise, she felt certain Eomer had been equally sincere. Not that it made any difference now. How he must despise her. He had never been the sort of man to care about position, and she doubted very much he would now consider her merely because of her title and disregarding their history.

The day of the Rohirrim's expected arrival, Lothiriel was on pins and needles from the moment she awakened. She had walked through the town, even down to the first level, and strolled the gardens of the city, but nothing distracted her for long or soothed her raw nerves. Even though anticipated, the sound of horns, announcing the party had reached the city's entrance, made her jump and her breathing quickened. _This would never do_, she thought, pressing her hands to her flushed cheeks. How could she see him in this agitated state. With an effort, she willed herself to calm down and draw even breaths. She could not change the past, but she would give him no reason to reproach her now. Her behavior would be impeccable; besides, Ivriniel would be there also, and no doubt watching attentively.

Despite the tenuous control she achieved, Lothiriel was not at all certain she could maintain it once they were face to face, but there was nothing to be done for it. She must attend this feast, but with a bit of luck they might be seated far enough apart so as not to need to converse more than a few words.

As Lothiriel reached the doors to the feasting hall, she encountered the swarm of nobility that had been invited. How had she never noticed how exquisitely beautiful the ladies of Minas Tirith were? Ivriniel had long dictated her appearance. The woman favored dark, dull colors for dresses that were more suitable to someone her own age than for a young woman such as her niece. Additionally, she saw to it that Lothiriel kept her hair pinned neatly into a matronly bun at the nape of her neck, as she deemed any proper noblewoman should wear it.

For all her position, Lothiriel felt like the poor relation in cheap, dowdy clothes when standing beside the other ladies. Their eyes seemed brighter, their clothing richer, their manners more refined. Surely her estimation of their adornment must be her imagination, for the White City had suffered some deprivation just as Dol Amroth had, but as to the rest, she felt far inferior in the eye of any beholder, and Eomer's would be a dispassionate, unforgiving gaze.

The crowd made way for Lothiriel as her father moved to escort her to the assigned seat. "You look lovely this evening, dearest!" Impulsively, he leaned and pressed a kiss to her forehead, engendering a blush.

"Thank you, Father." She fell silent as he smiled again, and steered their course forward. She fixed her eyes ahead, refusing to let them dart nervously about the room, seeking a glimpse of Eomer. She had little doubt she would locate him all too soon.

They reached the head table, though she was apparently to be seated with her brothers at the next table down. There were too many higher ranking dignitaries in attendance here, between Gondor, Rohan and the Elves, for everyone to fit at the single lead table. After greeting the King and Queen, Imrahil saw his daughter ensconced next to her brother, Amrothos. Lothiriel was pleased that Eomer had not yet arrived, and so she had not had to greet him in front of everyone. Still, sooner or later they would meet. Amrothos was speaking to her, and she drew her attention from her thoughts to what he was saying, trying to set aside her trepidation as she did so.

Several moments later, a murmur went through the hall, and Lothiriel looked up to see the cause of it. Everyone's attention was focused on the entrance, and even before she looked in that direction, she knew _he_ was there. It was as though she could tangibly feel his presence in the room. Slowly she turned to gaze at the newcomers, and her breath caught in her throat. He was even more impossibly handsome than she recalled. In three years time, he appeared to have filled out more and grown even taller, or possibly it was merely his self-confident demeanor that made him seem larger and more impressive. A sense that she did not truly know him swept over her and, in a way, she knew that was so, for they had been little acquainted, but in the next moment there was an overwhelming sense of familiarity about him. She had been so very young, and he had been dutifully polite and proper, but still she remembered the thrill that went through her each time he had taken her hand or touched her arm. That same feeling shot through her now as, inexplicably, his eyes lifted and fell directly upon her.

She had expected awkwardness, and even disinterest, but she was not quite prepared for the coldness in his eyes. Unable to hold his gaze, she dropped her eyes. Beside her, Amrothos had chosen to give her a running commentary of their acquaintance with King Eomer, and was detailing how he and their father had become close friends. Underscoring his words, her father was hastening toward the king to greet him, and moments later, the two stood before her. She and Amrothos rose in unison to acknowledge him.

"Eomer, you know Amrothos, of course, but I am pleased to acquaint you with my daughter, Lothiriel," Imrahil enthusiastically introduced.

On cue, Lothiriel gave an appropriate curtsy, but as she rose from it, Eomer said tonelessly, "We have met before."

Imrahil's eyebrow quirked upward, and he remarked, "Indeed? I was not aware of that. When did such take place?"

Eomer's scowl had deepened, so Lothiriel hesitantly explained, "It…it was several years ago, Father, when I was visiting Minas Tirith with Aunt Ivriniel. King Eomer was here with his cousin, Prince Theodred." Her hand fisted in the folds of her skirt, out of sight of onlookers. This was proving as difficult as she had anticipated.

"I see," Imrahil commented, but Eomer had already turned his attention to the man's sons, and was greeting them warmly. Again Imrahil's brow rose. He would never have expected Eomer to behave so, indeed his behavior toward Lothiriel was almost rude. After a moment, Imrahil set aside his concern over it; likely Eomer was exhausted from his travel, and distressed by the reason for it. He would be more the man Imrahil knew and liked once this was all in the past. He followed the young king along the line as he greeted others, and they slowly made their way to join Gondor's king and queen.

Once he was past, Lothiriel sat as quickly as was appropriate. A glance up gave her a glimpse of her aunt, smiling approvingly at her conduct, and apparently totally unware of the turmoil raging inside her niece. Giving a small sigh, Lothiriel sipped at the wine that the servants were beginning to pour and let the talk nearby draw her in.

Despite everything, however, Lothiriel could not keep from sneaking glances at Eomer. Doing so afforded her nothing, though, as he never seemed to look in her direction or take any further notice of her. Just as Erglass had indicated, Eomer had the full interest of every unattached woman in the room, and Lothiriel caught even a few of the married ones eyeing him. When the meal ended and the guests stood around talking and mingling, Eomer was soon surrounded by eager women, anxious to catch his notice. That alone was irksome to Lothiriel, who felt she must keep her distance, but the worst part of it was how pleased he seemed to be to accommodate them. It was quite evident he had well and truly forgotten his professions of love to her, and he most certainly had not been pining over her loss. It put a bitter taste in her mouth, even as she admitted she full well deserved to be treated thus.

To her chagrin, her brother Erchirion seemed intent on bringing the two of them together, and despite her protests, he caught her elbow and propelled her toward the golden-haired king. Likely no one but Lothiriel noticed him stiffen when he caught a glimpse of her approaching. He politely turned to acknowledge them, though he kept his eyes on Erchirion, barely glancing at her. Feeling awkward standing there in silence, she ventured conversation by telling him, "I was very sorry to learn of your uncle's death, and Theodred's as well. You have my condolences."

The words brought a resounding silence from all gathered, and Lothiriel paled, realizing that perhaps that had not been the best topic at just this moment. Eomer's jaw had tightened, but he quietly answered, "Thank you. That is very _kind_ of you." He paused an instant, then glanced around at the group attending him and announced, "If you will all excuse me. It has been a very long day and we depart early. I believe I will call it a night." He sketched a bow at the collective gathering, and they responded in kind, though clearly the ladies were loath for him to depart.

Sadly, Lothiriel watched him stride over to farewell the royals of Gondor and her father before exiting. It had perhaps been foolish of her, but she had hoped that they might at least be friendly toward one another. She had dared hope he might have forgiven her for the folly of her youth, but clearly forgiveness was not forefront in his mind where she was concerned.

Erchirion made no comment, though he watched her curiously from the corner of his eye. Neither she nor Eomer had mentioned their previous acquaintance, but he could discern nothing in their behavior to suggest it had been a cordial association. He bit back a grin; Aunt Ivriniel had her work cut out for her if she hoped to marry his sister off to Rohan's king, as he had little doubt she intended.

TBC

Erglass – "lone joy"

Linsul – "wind song"

Angcam – "iron hand"

Arastel – "deer foot"

Ivriniel: Sister of Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth. Ivriniel was born in 2947 (69 in 3016). She was the eldest child of Prince Adrahil of Dol Amroth. She had a younger sister Finduilas - wife of Denethor II, Steward of Gondor - and a younger brother Imrahil.

Theodred born 2978 (38 in 3016); died 25 Feb 3019

Eomer born 2991; 25 in 3016

Lothiriel born 2999; 17 in 3016

Theoden began to fall under influence of Grima in 3014

3018

September 19: Gandalf comes to Edoras and is refused admittance.

September 20: Gandalf has an audience with King Theoden and warns him of Saruman's treachery, but Theoden sends him away. Soon afterwards, Saruman begins to act openly in his plan to conquer Rohan.

September 23: Gandalf leaves Rohan with Shadowfax.

3019

February 25: Theoden's son Theodred is killed by Saruman's forces at the First Battle of the Fords of Isen.

February 27: Theoden learns of Theodred's death. Erkenbrand sends a request for reinforcements but Grima advises against it and Theoden follows his advice. Eomer leads his eored in pursuit of the Orcs against King Theoden's orders.

February 30: Eomer meets Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli and decides to aid them. On his return to Edoras, Eomer is arrested.

March 2: Theoden is freed from Grima's influence by Gandalf and decides to ride to war against Saruman.

August 7: The funeral escort arrives in Edoras.

August 10: Funeral of King Theoden. Eomer announces the betrothal of Eowyn to Faramir of Gondor.

August 14: The Fellowship leaves Edoras.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: Wow! Looks like I'm not the only one who is fond of "Persuasion"! Many of you count it as a favorite! I wasn't expecting this idea to be so popular, but, hey, I can live with it!  
**_

_**A reminder: I mark my stories "complete" because they are completely written, even if they are not entirely posted yet. With few exceptions (usually due to the site being down more than anything), I tend to post a chapter a day. If I didn't mark them complete up front, I'd forget to go back and change that, and then people would keep waiting for more!**_

**Chapter 2**

Lothiriel dabbed at her brow with a handkerchief. She had not fully understood what her father had in mind by summoning Lothiriel and her aunt to Minas Tirith, but it turned out he wished them to accompany him on the trip to Edoras for the funeral. She had thought perhaps her aunt would decline, as she could tell the woman was not eager to make the rigorous journey, but Lothiriel underestimated her aunt's desire to secure a match between Lothiriel and Rohan's king. The woman apparently would do whatever it took to bring it about, even if it meant traveling with few amenities to a backward country for a funeral of someone she did not know or care about. She could have sent Lothiriel alone; after all, her father and brothers would be along to supervise the girl, but they were men and unsuited to the intricacies of courtship. Only she was properly skilled to bring the couple together, and fend off all those other would-be queens lurking about the man. Her niece was the only one proper to make such a match, and she would see it done before she departed this earth. Only then could she consider her duty to the girl to be adequately discharged.

Thus far, the travel had been hot, dirty and tedious, and Lothiriel had little to do but ride in the carriage with her aunt, and listen to longwinded dissertations on how to secure a husband. There was no doubt in her mind who specifically Ivriniel expected her to 'secure', though no name had been mentioned. Ivriniel's eyes watched Eomer whenever he was near, like a predator stalking its prey. Lothiriel's insides squirmed uncomfortably every time she witnessed it, but knew that any protests on her part would fall on deaf ears.

As for Lothiriel, Eomer continued to ignore her as though she did not exist, managing a polite nod or comment only when it was unavoidable. Lothiriel had noticed her father and others eyeing him in surprise at his behavior toward her, but she was not aware that anyone had spoken to him about it. She very much hoped no one would; she did not like to think what he might say if pressed.

Still he could not entirely shun her. As Imrahil's daughter, he could not totally snub her without doing the same to the rest of her family, which he clearly did not wish to do. Indeed, the men of her family got on exceedingly well with him, and he appeared to greatly enjoy their company. That realization only added to her considerable feelings of guilt.

For all her youth and inexperience, she had loved him. He was like no one she had ever known before, and she had wanted nothing more than to be with him always. True, she had not fully considered the implications of marrying a mere soldier rather than a nobleman, but Eomer had been a good man then, and he was an even better one now, from all she could see and had heard. Whatever she would have had to give up on his account, she felt sure would be insignificant to the joy of being his wife. But Aunt Ivriniel had guided most of her life since her mother died when she was ten years of age, and it had seemed impossible to go against her or argue with her judgement. Only now that she had matured a bit, was she persuaded that she should have been happier had she chosen a different course back then.

Life as Imrahil's daughter was both a blessing and a curse. It held material advantages, of course, and she had little with which she needed to concern herself. All that was truly expected of her was to make a good match in marriage, and then provide her husband with an heir. Aside from that, her life would primarily be one of leisure and comfort. The men handled the details and difficulties of life, not their wives. Yet, she could not help thinking there must be more than that. She had seen the new queen of Gondor, and envied her. Queen Arwen was not the shy, retiring type as so many of the noble women were. She did not merely accept that her place was in a sitting room, mildly doing stitch work and gossiping with ladies of the court. The king had her beside him on numerous occasions, and sought her opinion on a variety of matters. Despite the rather shocked looks of staid Gondorians, Lothiriel had thought their relationship quite remarkable – and enviable.

Then, too, there was the White Lady of Rohan. Eomer's sister, Eowyn, had ridden to battle, disguised as a man, doing her part to defeat evil. Though many looked askance at such behavior, still they hailed her a heroine, and Lothiriel's cousin, Faramir, did not seem to find her lacking in womanly charm for it. How Lothiriel longed to be more than just an ornament on some man's arm. She could almost believe such a thing might be possible in Rohan, but she would never find it in Gondor, she was sure.

"Lothiriel?" Her aunt's voice imperiously broke through her reverie, and she realized she had been inattentive to the conversation.

"I am sorry, Aunt. Did you say something? My mind must have wandered," she apologized.

Ivriniel frowned at this perceived disrespect, but set the matter aside to address more pressing issues. "We will be stopping for dinner soon. Freshen your appearance. We cannot have you looking like a wilted rose before King Eomer. There is nothing appealing in that."

How she was supposed to "freshen" in this withering heat, she was not certain, but Lothiriel kept silent. An argument would serve no purpose. Pulling out a fresh handkerchief, she dabbed again at her sweat streaked face and neck, and then patted down her hair. It was so tightly bound that it was unlikely to be in disarray. Ivriniel's appraising eye seemed to have reached the same conclusion, for she did not press her regarding it. Just as her aunt had anticipated, the cortege came to a halt a short time later, and Lothiriel waited for her aunt to exit the carriage first. Instead, the older woman leaned back against the cushions with a sigh, fanning at herself.

"I believe I will eat in the carriage rather than get out in this sun, my dear. I will have a servant escort you to your father. He should be fairly near to King Eomer, and so you will have the opportunity to speak with the man and let him come to know you better. Remember – your best manners at all times!" Ivriniel instructed, her eyes closed during the discourse, and thus missing the wry amusement on Lothiriel's face.

A servant was opening the carriage door then, and Ivriniel turned her attention to giving him instructions regarding Lothiriel and her own dinner. When she finished, the man offered Lothiriel a hand down from the carriage and gestured in the direction of where he had last seen her father. They had only gone a short distance, when Lothiriel came to a halt and turned to face him. "I know my aunt expects you to hand me over to my father, but that is not necessary. I will be perfectly safe in our camp, and I wish to walk about and stretch my legs while we are stopped. Stay out of my aunt's sight for a short time and then take her her dinner. She will assume you have filled your charge, and if she spots me unattended, I will say Father left me briefly."

The servant hesitated, but then gave a nod and short bow. "As you wish, m'lady."

Lothiriel was rather surprised at how easy it had been to gain her freedom, if only temporarily. Glancing around the area, she saw there were some trees that provided a bit of shade along the bank of a creek, so she turned in that direction, thinking to dampen her handkerchief and gain a bit of added relief. Apparently others had the same idea, for there were several men and women along the bank, in addition to men further downstream watering the horses. She greeted a few women that she recognized, before moving to dip her handkerchief in the water. Straightening, she dabbed at her face and neck, grateful for the coolness the water provided. Rohan had proven to be a rather windy country, but considering this extreme heat, it did little more than give some slight reprieve from the misery.

Idly wandering along the bank, she found herself alone in a small brushy area, somewhat cut off from everyone else. She knew they were only a short distance away, but this brief isolation was refreshing after the close quarters of an encampment. As she stood there, admiring the view of the creek before her, voices drifted to her from somewhere to her right. Obviously others had also wandered away from the group for a few moments.

Her pulse quickened as she recognized Eomer's distinctive voice. Even when talking quietly, his voice carried, though at first she could not make out the words. Then another voice, a female voice, responded to the king. "I understand you were acquainted with Lady Lothiriel from before, my lord." Lothiriel's jaw tightened, both at the words and a recognition of who was speaking. Linsul was the daughter of a respected nobleman of Minas Tirith, and quite beautiful. It was hardly surprising she had set her sights on Eomer, or that he might be attracted to her. She was everything a man could want, everything that Lothiriel was not.

"Yes," Eomer answered reluctantly, clearly not wishing to discuss Lothiriel. "We met at Minas Tirith a few years ago when I was here with my cousin. She is a pleasant enough girl, though I find her so altered now I would hardly have recognized her. Her looks are quite severe."

"Oh, I know," Linsul agreed. "I believe her Aunt Ivriniel guides her in her dress, but it is not the most appealing, nor is the way she wears her hair. But do not think too ill of her for it; she truly is a delightful person."

Lothiriel swallowed hard at their assessment of her appearance, though she could hardly argue their point. She had thought much the same thing when she gazed upon herself in a looking glass. What Aunt Ivriniel deemed proper was not particularly attractive, and she had longed to wear some of the brighter, prettier gowns she had seen on others. However, Ivriniel had made it clear that such frivolity was fine for those not of the royal family, but they had an obligation to set a higher standard.

To Lothiriel's mortification, Linsul continued, "I do wish she had accepted my brother's suit for her hand. I feel certain he would have had her dressing in a more pleasant manner once she was away from her aunt. But, alas, Ivriniel always gets her way, and I am sure she is behind Lothiriel's refusal of Arastel. I do not think Lady Ivriniel considered him of adequate prominence in society to wed the daughter of Dol Amroth's prince!"

"When did this take place?" Eomer asked mildly, apparently feeling the need to give polite attention to the conversation, though surely he must loathe being made to discuss anything regarding Lothiriel.

"Oh, just a little over a year ago, I think. Poor Lothiriel! I fear she will end an unwed maid, or at least unhappily matched, if Lady Ivriniel has her say," Linsul breezily answered.

Lothiriel quickly moved away before she overheard any more of the couple's discussion, thinking it best she return to the campsite. She should probably eat, though what she had heard and the heat combined to give her little appetite. Why must her life be so very different from everyone else's? Her brothers were not made to adhere to Ivriniel's idea of appropriate dress or deportment. And she did not see that anyone truly looked askance at Queen Arwen or the Lady Eowyn; they were perhaps shocked a bit, but all they did was eventually accepted. Could not she do likewise and be equally acceptable? It was not that she thought doing so might endear her to Eomer – she had quite given up hope on that – but she did not like the life she was living. Could she not at least find a bit of personal happiness and contentment while doing the things she must do? She dabbed at her face and neck, apparently to cool herself, but actually to disguise a tear that had slipped out at her bleak outlook.

Amrothos was approaching, and Lothiriel quickly took on a cheery countenance, not wishing him to see her distress. "Come, Thiri. I will get you something to eat, and you can tell me all the things Aunt Ivriniel is discoursing on!" he snickered.

She could not restrain a laugh. Dear Amrothos! He always made her smile. She was sure spending an hour or so in his company would improve her mood immensely. Moments later, they were seated on one of the benches set out under the trees, eating while Amrothos entertained his sister with ridiculous tales. In the middle of a story, he glanced up, calling out, "Eomer! Join us!" He gestured to free space on the bench next to theirs.

Lothiriel stiffened, stealing a quick glance toward Rohan's king. Linsul was clinging to his arm, clearly delighted to be the recipient of his attention, but she was a social creature and enjoyed any gathering of people. "Oh, yes, my lord! Let us join them!" she enthused, and Eomer gave a consenting nod.

Withdrawing his arm from her hold he gestured to the bench. "Have a seat. I will bring our food."

Linsul plunked down next to Amrothos, leaving a space beyond her and farthest from Lothiriel for Eomer. Amrothos' attention was now diverted to conversing with Linsul, and Lothiriel resumed her meal in silence. It seemed to ever be thus; when any other woman was in a room, she was overlooked as inconsequential. Though she could not fault her brother – she was only his sister, after all – he was not alone in this tendency. Good old Lothiriel! She makes a very nice fixture on the wall! Take no notice of her other than to make casual mention of her existence! It was too much, and she could not sit here pretending all was well.

Rising abruptly, she said, "If you will excuse me, I believe I will walk a bit before we resume our travel."

There was a brief acknowledgement of her departure, but then their conversation quickly resumed. Lothiriel was glad to escape before Eomer returned and she had to endure his presence. She did not notice Eomer's gaze upon her as she hurried toward the creek bank once more, seeking a bit of solitude.

Whatever his thoughts, Eomer did not comment on Lothiriel's absence when he joined the others, though his gaze flicked toward the creek several times. A half hour later, the company was preparing to resume their journey, and Eomer saw Linsul settled back in her carriage. He had not glimpsed Lothiriel returning to her own carriage, and wandered that way. Ivriniel noticed him from the window and called out to him, "My lord Eomer! You are looking well."

Her address gave him an excuse to move closer and verify that she was alone in the carriage. "Thank you, Lady Ivriniel. You are managing the travel without too much difficulty?" he asked politely.

"It is not easy, but I will manage," she assured him. Then, changing direction, she asked, "Have you seen my niece, Lothiriel, by any chance? She has not returned yet, and I grow concerned."

"I have not seen her for awhile, my lady, but I will ask someone to fetch her to you," he said, stepping away. The woman clearly sought to ingratiate herself to him, but still she wore on his nerves. She behaved as though the past had never happened, as if she had not orchestrated keeping him from Lothiriel all those years ago. Now that he was sufficiently important, she wished to alter her course and thought he should just go along with it. She would not find _him_ so malleable as her niece!

He moved quickly away from the carriage, before his temper made him speak out of turn and tell the woman his opinion of her. Despite his irritation, however, he could not help be somewhat concerned about where Lothiriel had gone. He had not seen her return from the creek. He could send a servant, but that was inefficient; best to just go have a look himself and be done with it.

It took several moments of searching before he finally located her. She had settled on the bank, leaning against a tree, where she had fallen asleep. As he stood across the clearing gazing upon her, her features softened by sleep despite her severe hairstyle and clothing, the longing he had felt three years before resurfaced with a vengeance. How could she cause that reaction in him so easily? He tried to despise her, despise her weakness and giving in to her aunt's counsel, but at this moment it seemed impossible to do. She was so young then, and perhaps it was not entirely her fault that she felt she had to obey.

While he stood there musing, Lothiriel stirred, stretching and giving a yawn that she demurely hid behind her hand. Not wanting her to catch him spying on her, he called out, "Lothiriel!"

She jumped slightly, and hastily scrambled to her feet as he moved closer. "Your…aunt is looking for you. The company is preparing to depart." Even in his own ears his words sounded cold and stiff, but he could not bring himself to act differently.

"Oh! I am sorry! I did not mean to delay you. I sat down for just a moment and must have drifted off. My sincere apologies, my lord!" she exclaimed.

He cleared his throat gruffly, then answered, "No harm done. We are not delayed, but you should return to your carriage." He gestured back toward the encampment, and she moved forward, noticing he did not offer his arm to her. He walked slightly behind her the entire way, as though herding a wayward cow back to the barn, and she could not restrain a blush of embarrassment.

Once they reached her carriage, he gave a curt bow and moved away without comment, and she watched him leave with sorrowful eyes until her aunt called out to her, and summoned her inside. For the duration of the afternoon, she was made to listen to chastisement for not doing more to engage the king during the dinner hour, and further plotting by her aunt as to what course they should take upon reaching Edoras. Lothiriel leaned her head against a cushion and let her thoughts wander, knowing full well that her aunt seldom required a response when giving such dissertations.

To her surprise, the cortege ended their travel earlier than usual. Normally they pressed on until nearly sunset, leaving only enough time to get the tents up before darkness fell upon them. Not until supper with her father and brothers did she discover the reason for it. Eomer had determined that the ladies were being excessively tired by the heat and travel, and had decreed a shorter day to give them additional rest. While Ivriniel waxed eloquent about the king's thoughtfulness, Lothiriel privately wondered at it. Surely it could not have to do with Eomer's finding her asleep on the creek bank. Rather, it must be due to a complaint by Linsul that had caught his notice, but still she found the timing of it curiously coincidental.

Whatever or whoever the reason for the decision, Lothiriel was grateful, but not nearly so grateful as when Edoras appeared in the distance. She would be very glad to exit this carriage, and not revisit it for a good long while. She had hoped to get to do a bit of riding along the way, and better see the sights, but there were no horses to spare and no sidesaddle for her use. And Aunt Ivriniel made it clear that riding out in the hot sun was not to be done. Wind and sun would ravage her skin most abominably.

Lothiriel had little experience with any place other than Dol Amroth or Minas Tirith. She was not sure what she had expected to find at Edoras and the palace of Meduseld, but certainly it was not the reality before her at present. It was far more rugged and rough than what she was used to in Gondor, but yet she found a certain warmth and appeal to it. It was soon evident, however, that Aunt Ivriniel did not share that opinion. She barely concealed her scowl of disapproval, and soon after their arrival she retired to her room with a sick headache. As Lothiriel had been housed with her aunt for the duration, space being at a premium with all the funeral guests, she determined to spend as little time as possible in the room if her aunt was in residence.

They had arrived in the late morning, so after the midday meal Lothiriel ventured into the town to look around. She was quite sure her aunt would be mortified, but she had seen nothing here to give her alarm. Granted, Minas Tirith could be a bit dangerous for a woman unattended, but she had the feeling that was not the case in Edoras.

It made her self-conscious that so many stopped and stared at her, though she thought it was likely more a case of curiosity than anything else. Perhaps it was that she was alone, since she was not the only visitor perusing the town. She had not explored more than one shop before she encountered a familiar face. "Lady Eowyn," she acknowledged with a curtsy.

Eowyn eyed her with a bit of surprise; she had been told that the girl was rarely seen without her aunt hovering nearby. "Lady Lothiriel," she answered. "Come to do a bit of shopping, or are you merely looking around?" she asked politely.

Lothiriel smiled, wanting to like this woman who was to wed her cousin, but feeling more than a little intimidated by her. "I am mostly just looking, though I would not be averse to making a purchase!" she offered, and Eowyn reluctantly grinned.

"What interests you?" she asked, glancing around the store where they stood. Pickings were a bit slim in Rohan after the War, and it would take time for business to thrive or offer much, particularly to fastidious Gondorians.

Lothiriel was longingly eyeing some gowns hanging nearby. There was nothing overly extraordinary about them; indeed, they were rather plain in design and not at all up to her usual standard of quality, but they were cheery and looked comfortable. How she wished she dared purchase one, much less dare to wear it! Aunt Ivriniel would have the vapors if she saw her in such a thing.

Eowyn's eyes followed her gaze to discern what had her attention, and could guess the girl's thoughts. Surely she could not _like_ the dresses she routinely wore. They were hideous, and Eowyn suspected it was her aunt's influence rather than Lothiriel's preference that included them in her wardrobe.

Reaching for a pale green gown, Eowyn held it up to Lothiriel with a critical eye. At length, she announced, "This would look wonderful on you! It goes so well with your lovely dark hair. Shall you not buy it?"

There was almost something of a challenge in Eowyn's voice, and Lothiriel's breath hitched at the prospect of something so rebellious. Dare she? While she was doing mental battle with herself on the matter, Eowyn decided to sway the outcome. "The clothing you are wearing is much too dark and heavy for summer in Edoras. You would be far better served attired in something like this while you are visiting us."

Eowyn concealed her grin as she saw the wheels of hope turning in the girl's head; she was rather enjoying encouraging Lothiriel to kick over Ivriniel's traces!

"Well, perhaps…" Lothiriel said hesitantly, still not quite ready to yield.

With a twinkle in her eyes, Eowyn determined to secure the matter completely. "I wish to make it a gift to you, Lothiriel. Please, you would not refuse to accept such, would you?"

"Oh! I could not…you should not…" she began, but Eowyn cut her off with a raised hand.

"Nonsense! Why should I not? We will be relations soon enough. Please, allow me to do this," Eowyn wheedled, and could see the capitulation in the younger woman's eyes before she voiced it.

"Well, if you are certain that you wish to –"

"I am certain! Go – try it on. There is a room back there. Let us see how you look in it. I do not think it will require much adjustment to fit you," Eowyn instructed, not giving Lothiriel an opportunity to rethink her decision.

As it turned out, other than hemming, the dress was virtually ready for Lothiriel to wear. The shop owner's wife assured her she would make the alteration, and see the dress delivered by the next day. As Eowyn accompanied Lothiriel back out into the street, Lothiriel could hardly believe her temerity. Aunt Ivriniel would have a fit when she saw the dress, and likely insist she not be seen in it, but Lothiriel's jaw tightened. She _would_ wear this dress. Besides, it was a gift and it would be rude to Eowyn not to wear it publicly. No, unless her father had some objection also, she _would_ wear it.

**TBC**

Erglass – "lone joy"

Linsul – "wind song"

Angcam – "iron hand"

Arastel – "deer foot"

Ivriniel: Sister of Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth. Ivriniel was born in 2947 (69 in 3016). She was the eldest child of Prince Adrahil of Dol Amroth. She had a younger sister Finduilas - wife of Denethor II, Steward of Gondor - and a younger brother Imrahil.

Theodred born 2978 (38 in 3016); died 25 Feb 3019

Eomer born 2991; 25 in 3016

Lothiriel born 2999; 17 in 3016

Theoden began to fall under influence of Grima in 3014

3018

September 19: Gandalf comes to Edoras and is refused admittance.

September 20: Gandalf has an audience with King Theoden and warns him of Saruman's treachery, but Theoden sends him away. Soon afterwards, Saruman begins to act openly in his plan to conquer Rohan.

September 23: Gandalf leaves Rohan with Shadowfax.

3019

February 25: Theoden's son Theodred is killed by Saruman's forces at the First Battle of the Fords of Isen.

February 27: Theoden learns of Theodred's death. Erkenbrand sends a request for reinforcements but Grima advises against it and Theoden follows his advice. Eomer leads his eored in pursuit of the Orcs against King Theoden's orders.

February 30: Eomer meets Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli and decides to aid them. On his return to Edoras, Eomer is arrested.

March 2: Theoden is freed from Grima's influence by Gandalf and decides to ride to war against Saruman.

August 7: The funeral escort arrives in Edoras.

August 10: Funeral of King Theoden. Eomer announces the betrothal of Eowyn to Faramir of Gondor.

August 14: The Fellowship leaves Edoras.


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: Think I got most of my reviewers replied to, at least those that didn't post anonymously. If I missed you, my apologies. I do appreciate all reviews, even if it is just to say you are enjoying a story. **_

**Chapter 3**

"Lothiriel! What is _this_, may I ask?" Ivriniel's strident voice slammed into Lothiriel the next morning, when she returned to their shared room after a pleasant few hours chatting with the other ladies and doing a little needlework. Well, pleasant except for the detail that the main topic of discussion seemed to be the king of Rohan. She could have done without listening to all those women swooning over Eomer, especially Linsul.

On the way to her room, she had encountered her father, who now stood behind her in the doorway, looking over her shoulder into the chamber to see the source of Ivriniel's upset.

With a small gulp, Lothiriel stepped into the room and her father followed. During her absence, the dress had been delivered, and Ivriniel had not thought it inappropriate to unwrap the package that had come for her niece. "It is a dress, Aunt – a present from Lady Eowyn. She felt it was better suited to the climate here, and insisted on gifting it to me."

Before Ivriniel could express her outrage, Imrahil moved over to examine the dress more closely, then observed, "This is lovely, dearest, and you will look well in it, I think. How very thoughtful of Eowyn to gift you so. I must be sure to thank her for her kindness."

Ivriniel's mouth clamped shut at this declaration, but Lothiriel could guess at the effort it took for her to keep silent. "Eowyn was most generous, Father, and I appreciated her notice. Shall I wear it to the gathering this evening? Would that be acceptable, do you think?" She knew she was flirting with disaster, but better to garner her father's support than fight this battle alone in private with Ivriniel.

Her aunt had opened her mouth in protest, but before she could voice disapproval, Imrahil heartily gave his consent. "An excellent idea, dearest! The Rohirrim are not so stiff and formal as we are in Gondor. They will appreciate your adopting their manner of dress while visiting. It is a marvelous gesture of friendship. Besides, you are young yet. You should not dress in such dark clothing all the time. It makes you seem older than your years. This is much more suitable for a gay, young woman such as you."

Lothiriel thought her aunt would explode with the effort at restraining her opinion, that would undoubtedly contradict Imrahil's view. Not wanting to stick around any longer, and thinking it wise to give her aunt a chance to calm herself, Lothiriel advised, "Now that that is settled, I came to let you know they are preparing to serve dinner, Aunt, if you wish to join us in the main hall. Otherwise, I will have someone bring you a tray."

Ivriniel glared daggers at her niece, but merely snapped, "I will eat here. Please have a tray sent, and do try to find something light. This Rohirric food is much too heavy for my delicate system."

Imrahil raised an eyebrow at his sister's comment; he had never noticed anything particularly delicate about the woman, though he wisely did not mention that fact. Choosing to retreat with his daughter, Imrahil bid his sister good day and exited the room. As the two of them returned toward the Golden Hall, Imrahil pondered the exchange that had just taken place. He had never thought much about how Ivriniel was raising and guiding his daughter, but it did seem that she had made Lothiriel over in her own image, which was hardly suitable to a young woman of a mere twenty years. Her hair and clothing were those of a matron three times her age. Lothiriel should be dressed in lively colors and wearing her hair in the attractive styles so many young women sported, both in Minas Tirith and Dol Amroth. He would have to make it a point to encourage her more along those lines. No doubt his sister would balk, but Lothiriel was old enough now to make her own choices in such things. Surely she did not enjoy dressing in so…_depressing_ a manner.

Before they parted company in the hall, Imrahil turned to his daughter and pressed a kiss to her forehead, reaffirming his earlier contention, "You will look beautiful in that dress, my dear! I look forward to seeing it on you. Consider wearing your hair loose about your shoulders, also, as Eowyn does. It would be most attractive for you. I am sure you will turn the heads of several young men. Perhaps even Eomer will take notice of you. He has been strangely aloof, but I am sure that is only his grief."

As he excused himself and moved away, Lothiriel tried to restrain a wry grin. Eomer was aloof because of his grief? How blind her father could be at times! Did he not see that Eomer was only aloof with her, yet managed good humor with virtually every other woman he encountered? Ah well, probably best that her father did not make note of that detail. He would insist on an explanation for it, and she was sure Eomer was no more eager to provide one than she was.

xx

Lothiriel entered the main hall more nervous than usual. Aunt Ivriniel had glowered at her the entire time she was dressing, and argued about her change in hairstyle. Despite Lothiriel telling her that Imrahil had requested she wear it that way, her aunt remained disapproving, and was in such a snit that she stayed in her room, instructing the servants to bring her meal there. All the better, to Lothiriel's way of thinking. She would just as soon not have her aunt watching her like a hawk all evening, and taking her to task for everything she said or did.

While she had known it was a great departure from her normal appearance, Lothiriel was not expecting the response to her new look. More than one person did a double take when they realized who they were gazing upon, and within moments several young men were approaching her, offering to see her to her seat. As she was led to her place, she caught a glimpse of Eomer, who was staring at her with a stony expression. Apparently, he was not so pleased with her appearance as others were. Trying not to be bothered by his disapprobation, she kept her attention focused on the young man beside her, determined to enjoy the evening.

Just as she sat down beside Erchirion, Eowyn appeared, a wide grin on her face. "Lothiriel, you look lovely! I knew that dress would suit you!"

Erchirion was eyeing her in surprise, and asked, "This is new, is it not? Where ever did you get it – and how did you get it past Aunt Ivriniel?"

The three of them laughed at his remarks as Lothiriel explained the gift, and told them of Imrahil's assistance in dealing with her aunt. "Wonderful!" Eowyn exclaimed, "And good for your father to have you leave your hair loose also. It is far more becoming this way than what Ivriniel prefers." She hesitated ever so slightly after the remark, watching for any offense upon the part of the Dol Amroth siblings, but they merely seemed amused and completely in concurrence with her assessment of their relative's taste.

With another grin, Eowyn excused herself to take her seat, and moments later, the meal began. As they ate, Lothiriel gazed around the room, astonished at what her eyes beheld. Only a year ago, it would have been unimaginable to find such a gathering of Elves, Dwarves, Hobbits and Men, including Men from both Rohan and Gondor. Steward Denethor had grown a bit paranoid in recent years, and there had been enmity with most of their neighbors. All that was forgotten now, as they mingled easily, united as they hadn't been in a very long time.

As soon as the meal ended, the socializing actively began, and Linsul wasted no time in attaching herself to Eomer's side. Lothiriel made a concerted effort to look anywhere but where the couple stood, finding it too painful to witness their happiness. Somewhat to her surprise, the men were taking more notice of her than usual, and she found herself engaged in several lively conversations, making the evening one of the best in her memory, at least in that regard. She was not sure she could completely enjoy any evening wherein she and Eomer were separated, and at odds with one another, but it was clear that she must become accustomed to such. Eomer was in her past, and there was no indication he desired any sort of future that included her, not even friendship. All of Middle Earth might be united, but they were a notable exception.

Despite his attentiveness to Linsul, the few glimpses Lothiriel did catch of Eomer made her believe he was carefully concealing his grief from those around him. Her observations of him had reaffirmed what she remembered from years ago, that he was a man of deep feelings. He had loved his uncle and cousin most dearly, and she did not think this funeral gathering could be easy for him to endure. It did not surprise her a great deal when he excused himself early and departed. How she longed to go and console him, but certainly he would not welcome her efforts, how ever well intended they might be.

Linsul was left adrift, and eventually occupied most of the rest of the evening in the company of Amrothos, who she apparently found quite entertaining. Once Eomer was gone, Lothiriel found that her own enthusiasm for the gathering had waned, and she did not stay much longer herself. Luckily, Ivriniel was asleep and snoring contentedly when Lothiriel reached their shared room, so she was spared the usual interrogation of her activities.

xxx

The following day, Lothiriel saw little of Eomer, though she was not sure whether that was due to his responsibilities occupying his time or whether he was merely keeping to himself. Linsul was clearly disappointed by his absence, and did not cease speaking of him to anyone who would listen. Lothiriel tolerated it as long as she could manage before once again venturing into town.

With her father's approval, she purchased two more dresses similar to the one Eowyn had gifted to her, in order to have a bit of variety. Aunt Ivriniel had argued strenuously against such a waste of money, but Imrahil was adamant that he desired Lothiriel to dress in a more youthful manner, and she had eagerly complied. Not quite wanting to press Ivriniel too hard, Lothiriel did make a concession in wearing her long hair in a tidy single braid down her back, which her aunt found far more acceptable than having it loose. Lothiriel did not tell her that the braid was more practical given Rohan's wind, but that she fully intended to wear it hanging free for the indoor gatherings. Her last glimpse into a looking glass had been far more pleasing than for many years past, and she was not willing to relinquish it.

The shopkeepers seemed more open and friendly toward her on this visit, likely appreciating her patronage. Many of the visitors were looking but not buying anything, and clearly they could use the commerce. On a whim, she added a few colorful hair ties to her purchases simply to offer a tiny bit more aid without offending.

Supper that night was a repeat of the previous, except that Eomer lingered barely an hour. With Faramir at her side, buoying her spirits, Eowyn was able to remain and see to their guests, though a look in her eyes made Lothiriel believe she struggled with her sorrow nearly as much as did her brother.

The morning of the funeral dawned overcast and gloomy, and Lothiriel had to listen to Aunt Ivriniel's persistent remarks about how she hoped it would not rain. Lothiriel rather had her doubts that Ivriniel would venture outside for the funeral anyway, rain or shine, as it was a long trek down to the barrows and no carriages were planned, being too awkward to maneuver amid the crowd of mourners.

Just as expected, at the appointed time to gather, Ivriniel pled a headache and lay down for the duration, after giving Lothiriel lengthy instructions on how to comport herself. For once, the dark, somber gowns Ivriniel favored seemed appropriate, and Lothiriel donned one of those for the occasion, though she again braided her hair.

She joined with others in the main hall, and finally a horn sounded to signal the funeral procession onward. Eomer and Eowyn led the way, with the rulers of Gondor and Prince Imrahil directly behind them. The rest of the company arrayed themselves according to importance for the march through town. The Elves had camped outside the gates while visiting Edoras, so they joined them once they exited the city, and all slowly moved toward the barrows as the Rohirrim mournfully sang a song of farewell to their fallen king.

Despite the occasion, Lothiriel found the Rohirric funeral intriguing, and she carefully took in all of the details. The little bit of Rohirric she had picked up did not tell her much about what was being said, but several people had been designated to translate the essence of it into Westron for the gathering, so she was not completely lost.

At the conclusion, once Theoden's barrow was sealed, Eomer swallowed hard, gave a respectful last nod toward his uncle's resting place, then turned on his heel and began the journey back to Meduseld. The rest of the cortege followed, largely keeping silent. Shortly after they arrived in the Golden Hall, the visitors made their way to Eomer and Eowyn to offer condolences while the hall was being prepared for the meal.

It may have been Lothiriel's imagination, but when she approached Eomer alongside her father, she felt as though his eyes were searching her, looking for something. What it could be she did not know, though it left her desperately wanting to offer whatever he needed. Linsul appeared just then, and the moment was broken as she gushingly spoke of her sorrow on Eomer's behalf. Reluctantly, Lothiriel moved away in Imrahil's wake.

Though the skies opened up during the meal, the day was not totally depressing. The Rohirric way of mourning was more a celebration of life, and many songs were sung of Theoden's deeds and valor. Capping the gathering, Eomer trothplighted his sister to Faramir, and Lothiriel's heart swelled to see the pair of them so joyous. Would that she could know such joy in her own life, but as her gaze fell on the young king, she could not deceive herself that it would ever be. How could she know that joy without Eomer? She might do her duty and marry well, but Eomer would ever be in her heart. Of that, she was certain.

xxxxx

Over the next few days, the guests began preparing for their departure. King Elessar, the Elves, Gandalf and the Fellowship were the first to go, making for Isengard and their parting of ways. A large group departed for Gondor the same day the Fellowship left, but to Ivriniel's chagrin, Imrahil chose to linger slightly longer and be part of the second smaller group to head south later.

Not surprisingly, Linsul had quickly placed herself with the second group also, wanting as much time with Eomer as possible, particularly now that the funeral was behind them. She had persuaded the king to make an outing to Aldburg, and he seemed agreeable to acquiescing to any of her requests. Lothiriel had not intended to join the riding party, particularly since she did not have her sidesaddle, and Ivriniel did not approve of women riding astride horses, though that was the way Lothiriel had first learned.

Eowyn and Amrothos had other ideas, however, and neither would hear of her remaining behind. Eowyn saw her properly outfitted for such a ride, providing leggings to wear under her dress, and they packed food for the trip. The sun had returned the very next day after the funeral, though it fortunately was not so hot as the trip to Rohan from Gondor had been.

Linsul kept by Eomer's side for the duration of the ride, and Lothiriel trailed along with Eowyn and Faramir, trying to avoid watching Eomer as her eyes were inclined to do. They picnicked for lunch, strolled the streets of Aldburg for over an hour and then began the journey back. For all the heartache of being in Rohan, Lothiriel had to admit, if only to herself, that she liked this land very much, and she had enjoyed getting to see it. It might well be her only opportunity for coming here, so she was glad not to have missed it.

They were not far out of Aldburg when someone discovered various obstacles, and the more confident riders began something of a competition about who could go over the highest ones. To Lothiriel's surprise, Linsul chose to participate, though she suspected it was more to impress Eomer than anything else. The girl was a passable rider, but her mount was a bit flighty and Lothiriel had some concerns about how safe Linsul's activities were.

Apparently Eomer agreed, for he began attempting to get her to take less risk, but his caution only seemed to fuel her fervor. "I am determined, my lord!" she exclaimed, turning to ride toward a substantial pile of rocks.

"Linsul, do not be so foolish!" Eomer called, starting to ride after her. Several men on their larger stallions had cleared the pile with ease, but Linsul's small mare was not inclined to make any effort in that regard. She got almost up to it before deciding she'd had enough and skidded to a stop, causing Linsul to sail over her shoulder and crash onto the hard ground, her head striking a rock.

For an instant, there was stunned silence, and then a couple of the women screamed. No one seemed to know quite what to do, but Eomer had raced over and flung himself from Firefoot's back to carefully check her. Without thinking, Lothiriel hurried to join them.

Lothiriel's only experience with nursing had come as the result of her interaction with her nephew. Elphir's wife, Alcathir, had been most accommodating in showing her how to care for a child, including tending injuries for which an active boy like Alphros was renowned.

Lothiriel had been pleased to discover she had a way with children, at least those of her brother, who were the only ones with which she had much opportunity to spend time. Her aunt did not deem playing with children an activity for a well-bred young lady, and so Lothiriel took every opportunity to visit her brother's family and be with his children, out from under Ivriniel's critical eye.

Likely Ivriniel would have interfered more had she not thought it a good way to prepare Lothiriel for motherhood, though she was quite vocally disapproving of Alcathir's propensity for being so actively involved in the rearing of her children. Such things were better left to servants and nurses, in Ivriniel's view.

At any rate, because of Alphros' numerous mishaps, Lothiriel had developed a cool head in such emergencies, and she put that to use now in seeing to the fallen Linsul. "Drop her hands," she instructed Eomer, who was frantically calling the name of the unconscious girl.

"Linsul?" she said, checking the girl for injuries. "Linsul, can you hear me?" There was a stain of blood where the rock had broken the skin, though Lothiriel had learned that head wounds could bleed alarmingly no matter how small.

"What should we do?" Eomer asked urgently, seeking Lothiriel's counsel in the matter.

"We must get her to a healer at once. They surely have them in Aldburg. That is closest, is it not?" Lothiriel said, meeting his gaze.

He nodded and rose, scooping Linsul up in his arms as he did and moving to Firefoot. Eothain stood holding his horse and took the girl while Eomer mounted, then handed her up to him. The rest of the party was quickly collected and they set out for Aldburg at a gallop.

The accident had put a damper on the entire outing, and all were in a sober mood. Once Linsul was settled in the healer's care, the question became of what to do with everyone else. At length, though Eomer felt it was his responsibility to tarry with Linsul despite his duty to see to the rest of the party, Amrothos volunteered to stay and watch over her while Eomer guided the remainder of them home.

It wasn't the most agreeable of alternatives, but Eomer saw no other choice, and the exodus to Edoras was made quickly. Once the remnant of funeral guests were underway back to their homes, Eomer returned to Aldburg. Amrothos had generously agreed to stay on and help as needed, particularly since Eomer would not be able to spend all his time at Aldburg attending the girl, and Amrothos had more freedom to do so.

Almost before she knew it, Lothiriel was back in the carriage with Aunt Ivriniel and watching Edoras fade into the distance. This visit had been eventful, to say the least, and she had mixed emotions about it. There had been moments when she almost thought a reconciliation between her and Eomer was possible, but they quickly passed and now she felt as bereft as ever. His attentiveness to the injured Linsul surely signaled a growing attachment there, and she rather suspected it would not be long before tidings came from Rohan indicating that the king was to be married.

Ivriniel had apparently reached the same conclusion, and the journey home largely entailed plotting a new course for Lothiriel's marital prospects, now that the availability of Rohan's king was doubtful.

**TBC**

1/14/08 – 1/28/08

Erglass – "lone joy"

Linsul – "wind song"

Angcam – "iron hand"

Arastel – "deer foot"

Ivriniel: Sister of Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth. Ivriniel was born in 2947 (69 in 3016). She was the eldest child of Prince Adrahil of Dol Amroth. She had a younger sister Finduilas - wife of Denethor II, Steward of Gondor - and a younger brother Imrahil.

Theodred born 2978 (38 in 3016); died 25 Feb 3019

Eomer born 2991; 25 in 3016

Lothiriel born 2999; 17 in 3016

Theoden began to fall under influence of Grima in 3014

3018

September 19: Gandalf comes to Edoras and is refused admittance.

September 20: Gandalf has an audience with King Theoden and warns him of Saruman's treachery, but Theoden sends him away. Soon afterwards, Saruman begins to act openly in his plan to conquer Rohan.

September 23: Gandalf leaves Rohan with Shadowfax.

3019

February 25: Theoden's son Theodred is killed by Saruman's forces at the First Battle of the Fords of Isen.

February 27: Theoden learns of Theodred's death. Erkenbrand sends a request for reinforcements but Grima advises against it and Theoden follows his advice. Eomer leads his eored in pursuit of the Orcs against King Theoden's orders.

February 30: Eomer meets Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli and decides to aid them. On his return to Edoras, Eomer is arrested.

March 2: Theoden is freed from Grima's influence by Gandalf and decides to ride to war against Saruman.

August 7: The funeral escort arrives in Edoras.

August 10: Funeral of King Theoden. Eomer announces the betrothal of Eowyn to Faramir of Gondor.

August 14: The Fellowship leaves Edoras.


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: Here you go - the final chapter. Hope it satisfactorily concludes this little tale. If you haven't read Jane Austen's story, I encourage you to do so, or at least rent the movie (the Amanda Root/Ciaran Hinds version; I don't care for the newer one they've just done). And, if you're curious, I'm presently working on YET ANOTHER Eomer and Lothiriel story. For the moment it is going well, so if that continues, you should see it by mid-Feb. at the latest. It actually is a continuation of the oneshot I did called "Storms".**_

_**Many thanks to all who reviewed. Reviews keep writers going, and at least for me, story ideas/suggestions are always welcome. Who knows what they might inspire! **_

**Chapter 4 (Minas Tirith, early Nov, 3019 III)**

"Lady Lothiriel?"

She shook herself from her reverie to look at her companion. "I am sorry, my lord. Did you say something? I let my mind wander," she apologized.

Angcam smiled tolerantly at the girl, and repeated, "I was just asking if perhaps you were ready for a bite to eat? The inn just ahead has excellent food."

"Of course, Lord Angcam. As you wish," she answered, not meeting his gaze.

They walked in silence to their destination, though Lothiriel's thoughts were not particularly on her companion, but rather on someone who would soon arrive in the White City. Faramir was due to wed Eowyn of Rohan within a sennight, and the wedding party from Edoras would be here in the next day or so. She had neither seen nor heard anything of Eomer since they left Edoras after Theoden's funeral, which was to be expected. He was much occupied with his kingdom, and concern for Linsul, who had been injured while visiting. Amrothos, who had remained to help as he could, would finally be returning home in company with the wedding entourage.

Ivriniel had wasted no time upon their arrival in Dol Amroth in arranging another marriage prospect for Lothiriel. She was of the firm opinion that young ladies should be married before they turned one and twenty years, and Lothiriel was very near doing so. The new prospect, Lord Angcam of Edhellond, was nearly twenty years Lothiriel's senior, but eminently suitable. His first wife had died in childbirth, and the baby was lost as well, leaving him without a wife or heir. Lothiriel was young and strong, and should be able to readily produce him a son or two. Of more interest to Angcam, however, though Lothiriel did not know it, and he had largely kept it concealed from her family as well, was the likelihood of advantageous trade agreements that would come to him as the result of this alliance. As Imrahil's son-by-law, he would have considerably more influence, and could readily sway things to materially benefit himself.

While Angcam was amiable enough, and expressed all the correct opinions, he made Lothiriel slightly uneasy. She knew she was expected to accept his attention to her, as he was a most eligible and worthy suitor, and yet she was not comfortable with the notion of accepting someone who was old enough to be her father. And there was something…too smooth about his utterances. She didn't entirely trust the man or his motives, despite all appearances.

Still, she had little choice if Angcam offered for her. Her father also seemed agreeable to the match, and women of Gondor were not particularly permitted an opinion in such things. It was presumed a father knew best to whom his daughter might be entrusted, and naturally it should involve an alliance of advantage on both sides.

As it was a pleasant autumn day, they elected to dine outside, and Lothiriel permitted her gaze to wander the vicinity as Angcam rambled on about his various businesses. He spoke of little else, and she couldn't quite fathom why he believed such was appropriate courtship discourse, unless he thought she was impressed by his business acumen.

Their food had just been delivered when Lothiriel heard a familiar tongue spoken. "My lord, is not that Lady Lothiriel, Prince Imrahil's daughter?" Though she did not fully understand the language, she recognized enough words to involuntarily turn to see who spoke and found herself looking into Eomer's eyes. He stood a short distance from them with two guards at his side, one of which had commented, and was gesturing toward her.

Lothiriel's throat went suddenly dry. She had known she could not avoid seeing him during the wedding festivities, but this was not how she had anticipated getting that first glimpse. Beside her, Angcam had also noticed the fair-haired men watching them and asked quietly, "Who is that, my lady? Surely that is not...the king!"

She nodded mutely, then managed to say, "It is."

Rising instantly, Angcam instructed, "Please do introduce us, my dear! You are acquainted, are you not?"

Eomer evidently had realized the pleasantries were now unavoidable and moved toward them, though his eyes made his reluctance clear, if only to Lothiriel. Standing, she gave a curtsy and said, "My lord Eomer. It is good to see you again. Please permit me to introduce...Lord Angcam of Edhellond. Lord Angcam, this is Eomer, King of Rohan." She could not quite bring herself to mention her own connection to Angcam, though the way Eomer's eyes narrowed, she thought he must surely suspect.

"It is a very great honor to meet you, King Eomer," Angcam gushed enthusiastically, and Eomer gave him a polite smile in response. "You are here for your sister's wedding, I understand. I shall be in attendance, escorting Lady Lothiriel of course, so we shall meet again."

He glanced down at the girl beside him, and then added hastily, "May we invite you to join us for dinner?" He waved a hand toward their meal, but Eomer shook his head.

"I have business elsewhere just now, but I thank you for the invitation," Eomer replied curtly, then gave another nod to them both. "Please excuse me."

As he moved away, Angcam called to him, "But of course, your Majesty! A very great pleasure to meet you!"

Only once Eomer was out of sight did Lothiriel feel the tension that had seized her begin to seep away.

How was she ever going to manage to get through this next week or more? They would be thrown together far too often for her to bear it. She had thought she could reconcile herself to accepting Angcam, but this brief encounter with Eomer persuaded her otherwise. She did not love this man sitting with her, and no matter her duty, she could not give herself to him, regardless of what her aunt or father said on the subject.

For his part, Angcam was babbling away, excitedly replaying the meeting with Rohan's most prominent citizen, and seemed completely unaware of his companion's discomfiture. A public inn was not the place for such a discussion; Lothiriel would have to wait to make clear her refusal of further courting.

xxx

Eomer agitatedly paced his chambers, not even entirely sure what had him on edge. No, that wasn't true; he knew very well what had set him off. It was seeing Lothiriel with that man, and knowing full well the meaning behind it. She had not acknowledged him as her betrothed, but the gossip of the servants left no doubt in his mind that such would soon be the case, if it wasn't already. The two had been much seen in one another's company, and in Gondor that almost inevitably meant a betrothal existed. One servant had even mentioned overhearing Lady Ivriniel crowing over the coup of securing such a partner for her niece! It was intolerable!

He flung himself into a chair, scowling at the floor. It…it was...crushing. Could she love this man? Could her heart have turned from him? There had been times at Edoras when he imagined he had seen her gazing longingly at him. He had been too angry with her to pay attention, believing any torment she suffered to be well deserved, but more and more he was convinced she had simply been young and impressionable. And that she now regretted refusing him, not because he had become important enough to suit, but because she yet loved him. Was he mistaken about that? Was her love as much in the past as his days as Third Marshal?

He gave a growl of frustration. There was an evening of games planned tonight, and he knew he could not avoid it, though watching Lothiriel with Angcam would be torture. The very sight of her was like a knife rending his flesh, and he wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and renew his vows of love, previously spoken so long ago.

A knock sounded at his door, and he moved to open it, seeking any distraction from his thoughts. It was Eowyn, and she eyed him curiously for his disagreeable expression, as she followed him into the room and closed the door behind them. "What has you so out of sorts, brother?" she asked.

"Nothing!" he snapped. "I am just in a bad mood. A man is allowed that now and then, particularly when he is king!"

Eowyn crossed her arms and studied him appraisingly for several moments, then said, "Speak to me, Eomer. This is not like you. You have always been plain-spoken…until now."

He scowled and turned away from her, moving to stare from the balcony window down over the city. At length, he shrugged and murmured, "It is nothing. Pay me no mind. I will recover my good humor soon enough."

He knew it was an insincere promise, and Eowyn's expression suggested she did also, but she said nothing further. Instead, she moved to slip her arms around his waist and press her face to his back. "I would not see you in such distress. How can I be happy when you are not?" she asked softly.

"_Be_ happy!" he insisted, turning in her arms. "I told you, it is nothing. I will try to be more cheerful. I swear it. Do not let my ill mood ruin your joy. That would only distress me more!"

She gave a sigh, and then slowly nodded. "Very well, but I will be watching you!"

He chuckled and kissed her forehead. "Now I am not only distressed, but very _afraid_ as well!"

She slapped his arm. "Such mockery! I shall be glad to leave you and come live in Gondor with Faramir. At least _he_ treats your sister with proper respect!"

Eomer snickered and leaned down to eye level, telling her cheekily, "Only because he is terrified what you will do with that sword of yours if he does not!"

They paused for the briefest moment, and then both broke into laughter simultaneously, the tension dispelled. Eomer knew the matter was not resolved in his mind, but at least temporarily he had managed to set his unhappy thoughts aside.

xxx

"Lothiriel! This is outrageous!" Ivriniel said, sweeping down upon her in the library.

Glancing up at the irate woman, Lothiriel could guess the nature of her complaint, but refused to acknowledge it. "Of what do you speak, Aunt?" she inquired politely.

"I speak of Lord Angcam! As you very well know, girl! How dare you reject him! What on earth were you thinking? Anyone capable of thought would approve the match!" Ivriniel raged.

With a sigh, Lothiriel tried to reason with the woman. "He is very amiable to be sure, Aunt, but there is something about him that makes me uneasy. I feel as though I know him very little," she explained.

"You will come to know him," Ivriniel snapped, as if it was the most obvious thing imaginable.

"That is not what I want!" Lothiriel retorted, and Ivriniel gasped at her audacity.

"How…you…I intend to speak to your father! You will be made to accept him! He will not allow you to behave in such a ridiculous manner!" The large woman swept out of the room just as stormily as she had entered, and Lothiriel glared after her. She would _not_ marry Angcam, regardless of what her father said. Then biting her lower lip, her brow knit. She only hoped he would be more reasonable about this than her aunt.

xxxxx

Eomer had felt as taut as a bow string all evening, and it was giving him a headache. He had attempted to improve things with a few tankards of ale, but they were far too weak to make much of a dent, and he was still very much sober. The only bright spot, if it could be counted such, and he had been mentally debating that during most of the supper, was that he had seen little of Lothiriel. He had been surprised that Lord Angcam was not with her, but assumed the man would turn up eventually. So far as he could tell, that had not yet happened.

Indulging a couple of the ladies eyeing him hopefully, desirous of a dance, Eomer spent the next while on the dance floor, and was briefly able to put Lothiriel from his thoughts. As he took a breather, however, downing more ale to slake his thirst, he found himself confronted with Imrahil and Lothiriel. He very much suspected his friend had drawn his daughter over to greet Eomer, and that she would have much preferred keeping her distance. Too well brought up to do other, she politely curtsied to him, speaking the pleasantries that were expected. A moment later, Imrahil was summoned away and the two found themselves standing awkwardly alone together.

Deciding there must be conversation, Lothiriel halfheartedly inquired, "Did you stay long at Aldburg, my lord?"

Eomer shook his head. "Only so long as to be certain Linsul was out of danger. Amrothos was good enough to watch over her recovery, and free me from it. But I was able to make good use of my time, discussing pressing matters with my Marshal who is based there."

At the mention of Amrothos, Lothiriel observed, "I have not seen Amrothos. Did he not return to Gondor with you? And Linsul as well?" She reluctantly added the last part, but thought it would be rude not to inquire after the other woman.

Eomer shrugged. "They are here – somewhere. Lately, the two spend so much time slipping away together that they are little seen at such gatherings." At her perplexed look, a sudden realization struck him. "Have you not heard? Your brother has offered for Linsul's hand, and she has accepted."

Lothiriel's eyes went wide and she gave a small gasp. "Amrothos! And Linsul! But…but I thought…" She broke off what she had been going to say and eyed him warily, but was unable to discern any bitterness on his part for the outcome. Finally, she asked, "You…you do not object to the match?"

He shrugged again. "No. Why should I? They are well suited, and I believe they will be happy. Besides, they were much together during her recovery, and had plenty of opportunity to become closely acquainted." He looked restlessly around the room, not really interested in discussing others' marital prospects when his own were so bleak. After a moment, he realized his inattention to her was rude, and stiffly asked, "You do not wish to dance, or play some chess? I do not believe I have seen you partaking of the games tonight."

Lothiriel smiled and glanced away. "Game players tend to think themselves above others in some way, but I do not see the attraction such holds. I am no chess player, my lord."

He could not restrain a grin. "No, you never were, were you?"

Her breath hitched at the remark, surprised that he remembered that about her. It was one of the very first things she had told him about herself when they originally met. Just then, Erchirion joined them, disrupting her reminisces. "Thiri, is Lord Angcam here? I have not seen him."

Without thinking, she responded, "No, he is gone out of the city on business, but he will be back tomorrow." The instant the words left her mouth, she regretted them. Eomer had tensed beside her, clearly grasping the implication of her knowing so well of Angcam's whereabouts.

With a curt bow, Eomer said, "Please excuse me. It has been a long day. I believe I will say my goodnights."

"My lord!" she exclaimed, before she could stop herself, then hastily added, "The evening is young yet. Will you not stay awhile longer? Is there nothing to entice you?"

She could not help eyeing him hopefully, but he returned it with a cold look. "No, there is nothing worth my staying for. If you will excuse me." He moved away before anything else could be ventured and, fortunately, Erchirion did not seem to have noticed the odd exchange between them.

As her brother moved away also, Lothiriel headed to the side of the room, and exited onto the patio. Rubbing fretfully at her temple, she contemplated what she had learned. Eomer was not to marry Linsul…and he was not distressed about that. Their conversation had almost been friendly until her ill-advised remark about Angcam. Could it be possible… She must find a way to let him know she was not attached, and that she had refused Angcam. True, she could not be sure that detail would interest him, but she wanted him to know all the same.

Frustratingly, Lothiriel did not find herself in Eomer's company for any length of time over the next two days, and she was chafing to find a way to pass along her news to him. At least she had not had to contend with her father's disapproval. If Ivriniel had apprised him of Lothiriel's rejection of Angcam, which surely she had, he did not mention the matter to his daughter, or give any indication of annoyance. She could only wonder what his thoughts were, but she dared not approach him to ask, and presently she was more concerned with speaking to Eomer than to her father.

Yet again, she found herself at one of the many gatherings in celebration of the pending nuptials of the Steward and Eowyn. There had been invitations to dance, but she had declined most of them, wanting to keep herself available, and not wishing for Eomer to see her in the company of other men. Consequently, she found herself on the edge of a discussion between Erchirion and a few of his friends.

"What men suffer from the fickleness of ladies!" one man sighed. "A man becomes hopelessly lost only to have the lady tear his heart out!"

The other men were nodding agreement, but Lothiriel could not help replying, "It is not men alone who suffer so. There have been many men who treated ladies in a most callous manner, and then disappeared, leaving them heartbroken and bereft."

All eyes were on her now, and one young man launched into an impassioned speech on his view, "Nay, it is the ladies who are more cruel! What man, off fighting battles or such, does not dream of his lady and her tender arms, longing to be with her and watching for it to be so at the earliest possible moment. He imagines an earlier arrival, though he knows it to be unlikely, desperate to see and hold her again. You cannot know the deep love that men bear for their ladies, and what they suffer because of it!"

Lothiriel smiled, and told him, "I do not discount the strength of yours or any other man's feelings for a woman. I believe you capable of everything great and good. The only virtue I claim for my own sex, and it is not a very enviable one so you need not covet it, is that of loving longest when all hope is lost. Men have much to take them back into the world, but we live at home, quiet and confined, and our feelings prey upon us." Her thoughts turned inward as she thought of Eomer, and she became oblivious to those around her, and the fact that Eomer was standing not far from her and had overheard her remarks.

Erchirion gave a laugh. "What would you know of such things, Thiri? You have barely been in the society of men, so you could hardly know such hopelessness as you describe."

Lothiriel dropped her gaze and murmured, "You might be surprised, brother."

Either he did not hear her, or chose not to pursue it at this moment, for Erchirion did not remark on her words, and Lothiriel gave a small smile as she excused herself. Likely she had said too much, but she had not been able to refrain from commenting on the subject being discussed, feeling she had an intimate knowledge of the topic.

Eomer watched her move away with almost a frantic expression on his face. Looking around, he spotted a servant carrying a tray of wine goblets around to offer to the guests. "You! I need paper and pen at once. Can you help me?"

The man looked startled, but nodded. "Of course, my lord. At once!" Setting the tray on a nearby table, he scurried away as Eomer agitatedly paced his small area, awaiting the man's return. As soon as he reappeared, with the requested items in hand, Eomer virtually snatched them from him, offering a hasty word of thanks before hurrying to a table and beginning to write.

The servant stood uncertainly nearby, and finally asked, "Do you have further need of me, my lord?" He had recognized Rohan's king, and thought assisting him might be more important than handing out wine.

"Yes," Eomer said absently, quickly scribbling his desperate message. "I need you to deliver this in just a moment. To the Lady Lothiriel. It is most urgent that you find her at once."

"As you wish, my lord," the servant acknowledged, stepping away to await the missive.

When it was finished, Eomer quickly reread what he had written, then carefully folded it and handed it to the waiting servant. "Thank you! Make haste, and let me know at once if you are unable to locate her," the king instructed.

With a respectful bow, the man moved away, Eomer's eyes following him as the king gave a heavy sigh. This _must_ work!

xxx

"My lady? You are the Lady Lothiriel?" A servant was gazing inquiringly at her, and Lothiriel looked up and nodded. He stepped forward, his hand outstretched with a letter in it. "Eomer King requested I deliver this to you, my lady."

Eomer had sent her a letter? "Thank you," she acknowledged, beginning to unfold the paper, and moving closer to the light coming from the feast hall so she could read its contents. It was only a letter, so why was her heart racing so fast just knowing who had sent it?

_My dearest Thiri,_

_You pierce my soul! I was half agony, half hope as I listened to your words. Tell me not that I am too late, and that you have accepted another. My love for you is as great or more than that day three years ago when you broke my heart with your refusal. Proud and resentful I may have been, but never inconstant. I did not wish to admit my feelings before, believing myself justified in rejecting you as you had rejected me, but my heart will not be denied. It is you alone that I would have beside me as queen; it is you alone I want in my arms as my wife. I offer myself to you once more, and desperately hope you will not disappoint me a second time._

_One look, one sign is all that I need to know my feelings are returned. Only then will I go to your father and ask for your hand. If there truly still remains hope in your heart, hope for us, then meet me tonight – in our usual place._

_Ever yours,_

_Eomer_

Tears slipped down her cheeks as she reread it. He still loved her; it was not too late! Her hand lowered, and the paper was crumpled in her fist as she looked frantically around. _Our usual place_ – he was waiting for her in the Citadel garden! They had first met there, and spent most of their time together walking and talking in its seclusion. Lifting her skirts, she took off at a run, eager to see him as soon as possible and affirm her feelings were unchanged.

She skidded into the darkened garden, lit only with a few oil lamps along the path. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, and then she saw him, gazing out toward the Pelennor, the same pose as she had found him in many times before.

"Eomer?"

He wheeled at the sound of her voice, recognizing it instantly. For several long moments, they merely stared at one another, and then unconsciously, both began hesitantly moving forward. They came to a stop, painfully close, but still not touching, staring intently into one another's face. Ever so slowly, Eomer reached out and took her hand in his, allowing his thumb to rub gently across her knuckles. Softly, he murmured, "I tried to forget you. I thought I had, until that day I saw you again and it all came rushing back."

"I am sorry, Eomer, so very sorry! I never wanted to –"

He pressed his fingers to her lips. "Shhh! It is not necessary. You were too young then, and I asked too much. There was nothing you could do but let your aunt guide your course. I do understand that…much as I did not like it at the time!" He gave her a grin, and she could not refrain from returning it.

His hands carefully moved to tenderly cup her face, and his thumbs lightly stroked her cheeks. "Oh, my love!" he murmured. And then ever so gently his lips met hers in a long-awaited kiss. Three years ago, he had not dared be so presumptuous as to steal a kiss, despite being sorely tempted. Now, he would not be denied, and he would not let anything keep them apart.

When the kiss ended, she smiled lovingly up at him. "Where you are concerned," she whispered, "never again shall I listen to anything but my heart. Nothing will persuade me against you ever again, my dearest love, my Eomer."

Folding her in his embrace, they long stood in the moonlight, overcome with the joy of their reconciliation. Later, they walked and talked well into the night, apologizing and forgiving everything.

The next day was the wedding, and activities surrounding it kept the lovers separate and occupied, much to their chagrin. They could not keep their eyes from one another on those few occasions when in the same vicinity, but that was the most they could manage for the time being.

The marriage of Gondor's Steward was no simple matter and, between the various ceremonies required, it occupied several hours, until at last the deed was done and Faramir was enthusiastically kissing his bride. The celebratory feasting began shortly thereafter, and all in attendance were in high spirits, but still Eomer and Lothiriel could not find any opportunity to slip away together. It seemed every time either made a move toward the other, someone intervened and waylaid them.

When at last the supper was laid, they took their assigned places. After eating, various toasts were made to the new couple, each trying to outdo the previous in what was said. At length, Eomer rose, deciding it was time for the bride's brother to weigh in.

He studied the goblet of wine in his hand a moment, and then said loudly, "Friends! I am grateful that so many have come to share in this joyous occasion. I have long desired to see my sister know such happiness, and finally it is so. Rohan and Gondor have made peace, in many ways, but as for me personally, I do not believe anything might come between our lands while I live, save it be any failure on the part of Gondor's Steward to keep that blissful smile upon my sister's face." There was much laughter at this, but he added, "However, I am persuaded I have no cause for worry. And I wish them many long years of a marvelous life together." He raised his glass in tribute, and others followed suit, before everyone took a drink.

Imrahil had started to rise, to be next with a tribute, but Eomer continued on, clearly not finished, and Imrahil blinked in surprise before resuming his seat. "There is another matter I would mention at this time, though I am quite sure I am not following Gondorian protocols with my discourse. Imrahil, I have given Gondor the best the Riddermark has to offer – my sister. Will you do me a similar honor, and grant me the hand of your daughter, Lothiriel?"

There was a stunned silence, not the least from Lothiriel. She had expected Eomer to approach her father, but to do it so publicly was completely astonishing. Still, she could not be displeased. The sooner their union was approved, the better she would like it.

Imrahil slowly stood, his brow knit in confusion. "You…you wish to marry Lothiriel? What ever for, Eomer? You barely know my daughter!"

Eomer grinned in response, and answered, "I know her well enough, and I know my own mind. She has already agreed to my proposal, and I would marry her if you will allow it."

Imrahil blinked again at this additional information, and then turned to stare at his daughter. "Lothiriel? Is this true?"

Rising, Lothiriel beamed at Eomer, but told her father, "It is most definitely true, Father. I will gladly accept Eomer King, with all my heart."

Imrahil rubbed at the back of his neck, not quite sure how to proceed in such unusual circumstances, but at length he shrugged. "Very well, then. I can hardly oppose such an opportune match. You have my heartiest blessing!"

To the amusement of all, Eomer let out a loud whoop of delight, and strode over to sweep Lothiriel up into his embrace while everyone watched. As he drew back to look down at her, he glimpsed Ivriniel eyeing them triumphantly. Leaning close to Lothiriel's ear he murmured, "Your aunt has been quite the nuisance in all this. My only regret is how pleased she is made by this development!"

Now, Lothiriel laughed also, blissfully! "Aye, beloved, it is most vexing!" She stretched up to kiss him, oblivious to the crowded room, then added, "But I refuse to give you up just to spite her!"

He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her from her feet, twirling them in a circle as they both laughed joyously. "That is excellent news, Lothiriel, Queen of Rohan!"

Almost without noticing he was doing so, Erchirion had wandered over to stand near his cousin and the man's bride. He stared in complete bewilderment at what he was witnessing. "I…I do not understand! How did this come to be? Lothiriel is just a child!"

Eowyn grinned knowingly; her brother's earlier ill humor finally had a clear reason, though she had rather suspected this all along. She did not think Eomer remembered his occasional mentions to her of Lothiriel during the past three years, but she had always thought there was more to the tale than he was making known. Finally meeting the girl had afforded few answers to her many questions, but she had seen the way the two of them looked at one another, and she could not believe there was no feeling between them. She, too, had heard the rumors of an alliance between Angcam and Lothiriel, which coincided most noticeably with Eomer's wretched mood. Letting out a hearty laugh, Eowyn scooped up a goblet of wine and handed it to her new cousin. "What is to understand, Erchirion? They are happy, and so we should be happy for them! To their joy!" And with that, she lifted her own goblet in toast toward the newest couple, and then drank it down in one go.

THE END

1/14/08 – 1/28/08

Erglass – "lone joy"

Linsul – "wind song"

Angcam – "iron hand"

Arastel – "deer foot"

Ivriniel: Sister of Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth. Ivriniel was born in 2947 (69 in 3016). She was the eldest child of Prince Adrahil of Dol Amroth. She had a younger sister Finduilas - wife of Denethor II, Steward of Gondor - and a younger brother Imrahil.

Theodred born 2978 (38 in 3016); died 25 Feb 3019

Eomer born 2991; 25 in 3016

Lothiriel born 2999; 17 in 3016

Theoden began to fall under influence of Grima in 3014

3018

September 19: Gandalf comes to Edoras and is refused admittance.

September 20: Gandalf has an audience with King Theoden and warns him of Saruman's treachery, but Theoden sends him away. Soon afterwards, Saruman begins to act openly in his plan to conquer Rohan.

September 23: Gandalf leaves Rohan with Shadowfax.

3019

February 25: Theoden's son Theodred is killed by Saruman's forces at the First Battle of the Fords of Isen.

February 27: Theoden learns of Theodred's death. Erkenbrand sends a request for reinforcements but Grima advises against it and Theoden follows his advice. Eomer leads his eored in pursuit of the Orcs against King Theoden's orders.

February 30: Eomer meets Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli and decides to aid them. On his return to Edoras, Eomer is arrested.

March 2: Theoden is freed from Grima's influence by Gandalf and decides to ride to war against Saruman.

August 7: The funeral escort arrives in Edoras.

August 10: Funeral of King Theoden. Eomer announces the betrothal of Eowyn to Faramir of Gondor.

August 14: The Fellowship leaves Edoras.


End file.
